The Cost of War
by Orohippus
Summary: No matter who wins a war, the scars fighting leaves are not worth the victory. Non-chronological drabble series, set after the war. Chapter five of five posted. Constructive criticism welcome.
1. A World Destroyed

AN: Lenalee's world was her friends. Without them, what was she to do?  
Disclaimer: I never did, no, nor never shall, own any part of D. Gray Man

* * *

The Earl was dead, the war against him won, yet Lenalee Lee could not rejoice. She had watched her brother welcome her peaceful comrades home for the last time with a bow, seen the flames take their glad faces, ones that knew that they had saved many with that greatest sacrifice. She had watched the young Bookman laugh as he lay bleeding on the smoking battlefield, even knowing that there was no hope of his ever rising again. The sour Japanese swordsman scowled his last at her tears, mumbling his annoyance at her attention. The Fourteenth had faded away beneath her gaze with the kindest smile he could manage, his mission at last completed, having escaped Central's attacks forever. Now she knelt on the chapel floor just as she had that day, remembering all they had ever said and done. How Allen and Lavi had many a time just barely escaped being chopped to pieces by Mugen. She recalled that Kanda had always been around when Louverrier left her terrified, while Allen had always offered a compassionate smile and Lavi tossed in a laugh. Lenalee rose slowly from the flagstones to avoid bumping her many injuries. Thoughts ran through her sorrow-bowed head: _why had she survived while the others had not? Why had her innocence saved her life while other wielders were abandoned by God and stolen from the world? _With those lines looping endlessly round the numb expanses of her mind, she walked as if to a funeral march to the cliff, wind tugging at her short locks, whipping around her clothes, and tossed the black rings of Innocence into the sea. Within seconds the greedy waves swallowed the crystals, pulling them down to the bottom of the ocean, never to be found again.

Even though the Earth survived, Lenalee's World was torn to pieces.


	2. No Loss?

AN: No matter how twisted Road was, someone would have missed her.

Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own D. Gray Man.

* * *

Tyki Mikk knelt beside her immobile corpse, his human tears falling in a pool on her chest. He stared into those empty dark eyes, vision blurred by sorrow, as his body convulsed with the sobs tearing from his chest. She had been the greatest Noah of them all, so full of life and mischief, so devoted to the war against God. How he wished to return to the days of Road pestering him to the point of insanity out of boredom. Those times were long gone. Sherryl would not be pleased with the exorcists, those monsters chosen by God. Yet there was no way to revenge his sister's death. The Earl was destroyed at the hands of the Fourteenth, and Noah's wrath, bonds, lust, pleasure, dreams and even music were vanquished by God's cursed prophets. No more. All of the battles were over, and there was naught left to fight for.

Bloodied hands wrapped around the child's still form, moving mechanically to hold her close. The Portuguese man rose slowly, painfully, to his feet, and stumbled forwards, onwards and onwards, never to stop. The destination of his aimless wandering was unknown, leaving but one certain thought, Road Kamelot was dead, and her family broken.

* * *

AN: Many thanks to Riku the Strange and EX0718 for reviewing the previous chapter.


	3. Time Runs Out

AN: Please excuse the delay, time and Internet were not on my side.

Orohippus

Disclaimer: I do not own D. Gray Man, and never shall.

Sweat rolled down her tired face. The effort necessary to maintain Time Recovery was immense, almost overwhelming. Miranda Lotto knelt on the hard, blackened earth, her heavy breathing coming in ragged gasps as she tried to force more oxygen into her tired body. Light reflected off of the salty liquid on her pale face through her damp curly black locks. Her dark eyes turned up towards the gray horizon, any possibility of light from the coming morn blocked off by the thick suffocating smoke rising from the crushed ruins of the Vatican City. The record on her wrist spun at an ever-increasing speed that made the frantic motion all around her nothing but a surreal dream, lost in the consuming exhaustion. But she could not stop, for if she did, many would die before aid reached them and it would be all her fault. 'Please stay activated, just for a little while longer, it can not be too hard!' she thought, trying to will herself to go on. But holding out was too much for the Exorcist as she collapsed, gripping her chest in blinding pain. Her heart slowed to a stop. With it, the Time Recovery field faltered and finally disappeared just like its mistress. The Exorcist was gone.


	4. Like a Brother

AN: Tyki's life was more than just playing noble and following the Earl's orders.

Disclaimer: D. Gray Man belongs to Katsura Hoshino, not myself.

* * *

Eeze leaned against the windowsill, watching the raindrops roll down the pane. He turned away from the glass to his companions, fighting off a series of coughs before he spoke, "Tyki hasn't been home for a long time. When will he be back?"

"I don't know Eeze, but I sure hope that he's better off than we are." Momo turned to look at the boy as he spoke.

"Yeah. We can't work with this downpour, and that means no pay." Crack grimaced as he fingered his diamond-backed playing cards.

The boy sighed and rested his chin on his fist, staring out the window and clutching the buttons that Tyki had given him, waiting for the companion who was like a brother to him, not knowing that Tyki Mikk would never return.

* * *

AN: Many thanks to Rika the Strange, pika318, and There Was A Silence for reviewing the last chapter.


	5. Picture of Heaven

AN: At least some end in peace.  
Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own D. Gray Man.

* * *

The pencils dropped off the bed and rolled freely across the floor. There was no one to pick them up. On the bed there lay a man, his grey hair unkempt, his body covered with bandages, his barely audible breathing testimony to a life nearly spent. A stick of charcoal was loosely held in his right hand. He pulled it feebly across the paper to create an ivory city shrouded in mist. The white stone place was the one before which his spirit stood, the city of God. Rejoicing, the spirit danced onto the cobblestone streets, leaving Earth forever. The Exorcist's breath slowed to non-existence; his drawing hand fell limp at his side. So General Froi Tiedoll died, his face touched with a smile. Free at last, he had drawn heaven.

* * *

AN: The End. I was very dissapointed in the review response for the previous chapter. Hopefully this chapter will show improvement.


End file.
